


this time is your time

by kuro49



Category: Pacific Rim (2013)
Genre: Father-Son Relationship, Gen, Pre-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-09
Updated: 2016-04-09
Packaged: 2018-06-01 04:39:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,107
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6501187
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kuro49/pseuds/kuro49
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Chuck gets into another fistfight. The consequence is different this time.</p>
            </blockquote>





	this time is your time

Chuck is sitting on top of the toilet seat when his father comes into their shared quarter. The narrow bathroom counter is littered with the content of the first aid kit dumped upside down, and he is really not in the fucking mood to go another round.

His aching hand and his bloody knuckles are proof enough. He’s already got the wounds to lick on his own. He hardly needs a witness too. Chuck resolutely does not look up from his attempt at wrapping the bandages tight enough to be effective at all.

“You’re aware we’ve got an infirmary for this.”

Herc stops at the door to the bathroom and takes stock of the state his son is in.

It could be worse is really the only consolation he gets from this.

“Excuse me for getting blood in the sink.”

Chuck has to know he isn’t about to get rid of his old man this easily.

“Who did you punch this time?”

“No one who will rat to the suits.”

Herc really has to bite back a sigh, and maybe he is not playing fair but his son has to learn not to start yet another dumb fistfight.

“You’re a Jaeger pilot.”

That always gets a response from the kid.

Herc is glad his son is still predictable in this even when everything else is not so simple anymore.

“With no kills to my name or even a single fight in a Jaeger, _dad_.” Chuck bites out, the frustration sounding like it has been coming into the same dead end for a while now. “Being called the youngest Ranger doesn’t count for much at this point.”

 _You will get your chance_ , Herc doesn’t say.

After all, the world is in no shortage of Kaiju invasions even if it is in shortage of just about everything else. Herc has only ever wished that it doesn’t become this: when the executive decision comes down that his next co-pilot should very well be his son, for a wild second, he almost believes that Chuck would say no.

Turns out, Herc really does know his son even less than he thought. Chuck has only ever wanted those bastards that killed his mum with their faces smashed in.

It really shouldn’t be a comfort, but it is something in these last days when Chuck steps inside the Conn-Pod next to him and becomes his 02.

“Just give me your hand already.”

The kid doesn’t even protest, just begrudgingly extends his hand and the disaster of gauze wrapped around it.

“Did you disinfect it?”

Herc figures that could really go unanswered when he sees the bottle of ethanol buried underneath a box of band-aids. He reaches out for it and a spare cotton pad.

“It’s going to sting.”

“I’m not a _kid_.”

Herc kindly doesn’t remind him that he is sixteen years old.

Chuck’s mouth is pulled into a flat line the whole time. He doesn’t let Herc see the way his jaw clench down at the sting even with the warning.

Silence is good between them. It leaves less room for errors. Watching his father work, the man is not gentle even when he is tending to him like this. Chuck is never going to admit this to his old man in actual words but he is glad for it. Much like every chance they get in the Kwoon, Herc never pulls his punches.

He fights him just as he would with any other opponent.

Herc might see him as his son, but he also sees him as an equal when their hanbō collide.

“There, done.”

Chuck looks up and Herc is already cleaning up the counter.

He is not gentle. He is efficient. And Chuck is grateful, even if that is not the word he would be caught using. They are still so far from _good_. But maybe that is not the point at all. Maybe he can do the saving around here this time. Maybe all of it doesn’t have to fall to his father.

Chuck isn’t so naïve as to think that the drift can solve any of their problems. Chuck isn’t so naïve as to think that the two of them are smart enough to figure things out without mum. He says what needs to be said even when it is difficult to make it come out sounding right.

“…Thanks.”

That single word is strange to his own ears when it comes out sticking to his tongue and his teeth and his lips like it is far more complicated than it really should be. He stands up in haste, eager to escape.

“Did you think you’re off the hook that easily?”

Chuck almost takes a step back at that.

Or he would if the bathroom isn’t so small. Perhaps even a step forward if his father isn’t standing right where his means of escape is. The first aid kit tidied up all too quickly. Chuck narrows his eyes.

“The other guy started it.”

Herc can say he is proud of himself for not rolling his eyes at the kid.

“I don’t care, Chuck.” Action comes with consequences. This, here, is something he has been taught since he’s been a child himself. Herc decides it is about time to take extreme measures. “This is the third fistfight this week.”

“So?”

“It’s Tuesday.”

Herc holds out his hand.

Chuck stares.

Herc doesn’t move an inch.

Because if Chuck Hansen is stubborn, where do people think the kid gets it from? Herc has had more than twice the time Chuck’s got on this earth.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Hold my hand, Chuck.”

He has his hand extended, palms turned up. It really is as inviting as he can make it.

“ _What_?”

“Take my hand, Chuck.”

Herc knows he has to draw the line somewhere. And he is practical above all. If Chuck is holding his hand, there are very little opportunities for another cadet to have their face ending up black and blue. The two of them might end up in a fistfight first but Herc figures the Kwoon (or the infirmary for that matter) can’t be all that far.

Maybe seeing the sheer disbelief on his son’s face is really the lesson to be taught here. At the very least, it is one for the parenting books. The constant anger has to be exhausting, that much Herc knows.

But if Chuck is a brat, then Herc is a bastard.

“Action comes with consequences, Charles.”

Herc tells him, and he is not kind about it.

Chuck takes back every nice thing he’s never said out loud about his old man.

 

**Author's Note:**

> is this ooc?? it might be ooc. 
> 
> but i figure, instead of thinking about trying-his-best dad herc, i used my birthday day off writing about it. because imagine chuck forced to hold hands with herc to the mess and then imagine the two of them holding hands as they walk max :DDD
> 
> based on this prompt: _your hands ache and your knuckles are bleeding after getting into another dumb fist fight so I’m gonna bandage them and then hold your hand for the whole day_


End file.
